Sweet Cheeks
by hawkstout
Summary: Nightwing/The Prankster: Nightwing and the Prankster's first meeting goes very differently and involves a lot less clothing.


**Pairing:** Nightwing/The Prankster

* * *

He smiled to himself as the glass case snapped shut. "You **surprised** me tonight, Nightwing. You're the first to **do** that." Maybe his timing sucked. Maybe he wasn't on the same page, but still, this guy was interesting. "Assuming you **are** Nightwing. You match the pictures I've seen of him anyway. For the sake of what comes next I'm going to assume that you **are**." Either way he would have fun. "It appears there are **two** ways out for you, both in the form of access hatches. However one of the hatches will release enough oxygen to explode the fire at your feet, **killing** you instantly." And that wouldn't be any fun. "The game is simple, Nightwing. In order to choose the correct hatch, you need to be able to **see**. Which is fitting. After all this is a city that **hates** masks. So in order to get out alive… All you have to do is take off **yours** for the camera."

He was kind of curious, not because of who Nightwing was, although showing the world the face of one of Batman's sidekicks would be a thrill, no, it was more that from what he saw already Nightwing was…

Gorgeous.

It was hard not to follow the lines of that skin-tight suit. The curve of his hips and ass, the arrow that directly pointed to more… interesting bits. This boy was fine and either he knew it and emphasised it to distract his enemies, or Batman liked playing dress up with his playthings. Either way he loved the overall effect, especially when such a nice looking bird was trapped in _his_ cage.

Nightwing frowned staring blindly ahead. He clicked pictures every now and then, close ups of his masked face, legs, chest, fingers…

Oh he liked the finger stripes. Mm.

"Come on now Nightwing, you're losing oxygen as we speak."

"What if…" Nightwing said slowly. He sounded young, probably a little younger than he was. Maybe twenty-two. Nightwing slowly slid a black and a red finger down the glass, "I take off everything but?"

He didn't understand for a second and then he did.

Oh.

He examined the lean body before him.

Hell yes. He could find out who Nightwing was anytime. It wouldn't be that hard if he really put his mind to it, but a free strip show?

"My, my Nightwing, what would your Daddy say?"

Nightwing gave him a spicy grin. He unzipped the front of his suit and then pulled at the sides so it slowly gave way inch by inch revealing a smooth hairless chest.

Yes, he could definitely work with this.

"If you're referring to Batman," Nightwing said, shrugging the uniform off his shoulders. "He's not my 'Daddy.'" He stood with bare chest and shoulders. His sleeves still held the uniform up, but instead of taking them off he turned and bent starting to pull off his boots.

He spent most of his time on the internet and could say with little doubt that that was the finest ass he'd ever seen.

"Then Batman is a lucky man." Under his mask he licked his lips. Nightwing stood barefooted now still turned away from him. He pulled off the finger stripped gloves and let them fall beside his boots, then he shrugged off the rest of the top of his uniform. It fell down, hanging off his hips.

"Who says Batman gets to benefit?" Nightwing laughed. He was facing the Prankster again. His fingers touched the glass.

"Oh, so you're not _with_ the Batman? What about Red Robin, I hear you're both _tight_." The uniform was pushed the rest of the way down. No underwear. Only a cup to protect his more sensitive bits in battle.

Nightwing leaned against the glass putting himself on display.

Perfectly on display in that glass case. Tumblr wasn't going to believe this.

"Red's more of a little brother. Actually, I'm unattached right… now."

He realized Nightwing wasn't leaning on the glass to look sexy. He was doing it because he had lost most of his oxygen supply. He slowly slid down the glass. He knelt on the floor head bent.

Shit oxygen starved Nightwing shouldn't turn him on so much.

"It's a good thing for me maybe."

Without thinking he approached the glass. Nightwing's breathing was shallow now. He trailed his fingers in front of his captive's face.

"You've been pretty good, but you're not done yet," He said pointedly. Nightwing didn't answer.

"Nightwing?"

Nightwing collapsed no longer able to hold himself up. Shit.

"Shit, shit, shit." He quickly reprogramed the glass case to open without sparking an inferno. Nightwing still wasn't moving.

Damn it. He entered the cage turning the mostly naked superhero over.

A fist connected with his face. He dropped like a ton of bricks.

"Morning sunshine."

"Ugh…"

He was in an apartment building somewhere handcuffed to the pipes. Nightwing was perched on a computer chair eating donuts. Unfortunately he was fully clothed. The vigilante grinned at him waving his phone in front of his face.

"I'll give it back, but I took the liberty of deleting a few pictures."

He frowned sourly, "You know you just broke the hearts of millions of fangirls."

"I'm sure they'll get over it."

"So, why aren't I at the local police station then, Sweet Cheeks?" Once a guy strips for you you're allowed to use terms of endearment. That's what he always went by anyway.

"I actually need your help."

He weighed it in his mind. His eyes automatically ran over Nightwing's body again. A cocky little show-off with an exhibitionism kink.

"I can work with you, but it'll cost you more than a strip tease this time."

Nightwing beamed. He unfolded himself from the chair and approached him. He sidled up so he was sitting on his lap, arms around his neck. Soft lips touched his long blond hair. He sighed happily at Nightwing's whisper:

"I can definitely work with that."

* * *

Well... that was that.


End file.
